A smile comes across Marco's face when the young girl (who looks the spitting image of Jean) runs toward her father. Jean laughs as he catches her and spins her around. "Wow! You're like a feather!" he teases listemomg to his daughter's giggle. Jean looks over at Marco and grins. "I see you've made macaroni necklaces."
Marco looks down at his neck and chuckls just a bit. He fingers the necklace. "You caught me," he says and holds up his hands as if to surrendering to a crime. "I made sure to not get too much glitter on the fl-"
"We also made Jell-O stars!" the young girl interrupts and bounces in her father's arms.
"Think Mommy will like them?" Jean asks the little girl, and Marco watches the young girl nod happily as he feels a tightness in his chest. Like a tiny hand reached inside and peeled back his ribcage to squeeze the aching organ.
"What a silly question, of course Mommy will like them."
Marco's smile does not falter as he reaches for his coat. He can feel Jean looking at his back, giving him a look begging for Marco to turn around and stay for a drink or two, but he cannot afford to look back. Whatever attention he knows Jean has on him is stolen away by the young girl who begins to try and speak French to him. Marco was teaching her. She still said "eh" instead of "ah", but Jean still laughs and tells her she is doing perfectly well.
Marco listens to it all quietly, and he the tiny hand is now breaking his ribs one by one and leaving his heart bare and vulnerable as it digs into his heart that (feels like) it is stopping.
He cannot cry. Not here. Not ever. Not over a missed opportunity. He just leaves with a quiet goodbye.
The tears start to fall when he is on the bus, and no matter who stares at him he just cannot stop. He is lucky to be a quiet sobber, the type with big gumdrop tears and little quiet whimpers as he tries to swallow the remnants of his cheating heart. Lying traitor who makes him fall in love with someone he just cannot have.
A vibration shakes him to his senses. He reaches into hispocket and looks at the caller ID.
Of course.
from: Jean babysit tmr rite? /received
He stares at the message, and he swallows down eveything. He starts slowly texting back a 'no' and a three-worded forbidden phrase.
But he deletes it.
to: Jean of course c: /sent